


The Apocalypse Is Over

by LokianaWinchester



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bearded Steve Rogers, Cuddling, First Kiss, Fix-It, Infinity War was a nightmare, M/M, Nightmares, Quite Literally, SWEET BOYS, Stucky - Freeform, The inner life of Bucky Barnes, Wakanda, have some, infinity war fix-it, mentions of my queen Shuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 04:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14464842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokianaWinchester/pseuds/LokianaWinchester
Summary: Infinity War is a nightmare, Bucky wakes up from, panicking. Luckily Steve is there.





	The Apocalypse Is Over

There is fighting, a lot of fighting.

Bucky is fighting, he is throwing punches, shooting, with precision and missing no single shot, he is handling his knives, it is in his nature now. But it is something he has not done in a long time. He sees beasts, so horrible they could not be of this earth, but what even was of this earth anymore these days?

He is fighting, but he is not alone.

All those people who care for him here in this part of the world, that he has never known to exist, all of them are fighting alongside him.

Bucky feels good.

It feels right, this thing they are doing, it feels right because they are defending Wakanda, which has become his home.

He has a new arm, he does not know how to thank Shuri, but he accepts it gratefully, he needs it to fight, after all.

He also has a gun. A real one, not one of those super-powered vibranium-technology guns or spears that they use around here.

He has a machine gun he feels comfortable with and he uses it to protect the people who have given him so much without expecting him to repay them, except now he can.

And he gives it his all.

They are doing well.

They are fighting their way through it all. It is working, things are actually looking well, they might win, which seemed impossible only a short time ago.

They actually are winning, Bucky does not understand a lot of what is going on, there is a talking tree somehow?

There is Thor, as in the actual god?

How much weirder can this situation get?

But they need all those fighters to get what they want.

Peace.

For the fighting to stop and for that they have to defeat the person they can thank for all this, somebody else who could in no way be of this world either, he is purple? He has a glove on, a glove with the infinity stones in them, that give him unlimited power as Steve has once explained those crystals to him.

It seems impossible and yet it is possible in the worst way, and just as impossibly they are still not losing.

Thor is burying his magic axe, another thing Bucky could never believe, in the purple guy’s chest, he seems to be dying, but then, just when it seems like a victory, just when it seems like they have a chance, like always in Bucky’s life, without failure, it turns even worse.

The purple man disappears, just like that in a cloud of purple and blue and Bucky thinks he is alright.

He thinks that now he can return to Steve.

He can close his arms around him.

He knows, Steve is still alive.

He can hear him, then, after a few steps through the Wakandan jungle, Bucky can see him.

He is relieved.

He is happy.

He wants to run towards him and tell him it is over, they did it.  But then the weight on his right arm suddenly disappears.

He looks down and then the gun is gone, turned to dust.

He looks towards his other, his new arm.

It is falling to the ground in flakes and then time seems to slow down indefinitely.

The only thing he can utter is Steve’s name, he sees his legs dissolve under him and then –

-

Bucky gasped. He shot up and threw the cover off of himself. His shirt was wet with sweat, clinging to his skin uncomfortably, his breath was going in fast, heavy puffs of air, his eyes wide open, looking around to assure that he was really in his bedroom. He looked down at his shaking hands, then frantically reached for his legs, feeling them, standing on them with his whole weight, while leaning on the wall with his shoulder.

His heart was beating hard, his breathing still fast, as he raked one hand through his hair, the panic only slowly receded. In the adjourning room, he heard shuffling. A moment later Steve was walking through the door that joined their bedrooms, pausing a moment before he made his way over to Bucky. When Bucky felt Steve’s hands on his shoulders, he tensed up for a moment, everything still seemed unreal, but Steve’s presence soothed him, as it always had. Except for when Steve had been scrawny and had worried Bucky more than anything. But now, Steve was here and Bucky was alive. And suddenly he began to appreciate this fact more than before. He had not thought this possible after finding himself alive against all odds over and over again.

“Bucky, Bucky are you alright?” Steve was worried, his forehead creased, hair messy from bed, his eyes still sleepy. But he was attentive, his gaze trained on Bucky and his hands tightened on Bucky’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m – I had a bad dream, Steve.”

Steve pulled him closer, wrapping both arms around him and Bucky wished he could just sink into Steve. Bucky placed his hand on Steve’s back, hugging him back, burying his nose in his neck. Like so often he wished for a second arm. They had told him it would be ready in the next days, maybe that was why he had remembered it so vividly in the dream. Remembering mere fragments of this nightmare made him wince. He had seen so much pain, and not only for himself, so many brave Wakandan soldiers had given their lives in protection of their home, Vision had sacrificed himself, it all had seemed so real, not at all like a dream, and the worst had been not his own pain, not his friends and allies dying, no, he had seen the pain on Steve’s face as well, and it had broken his heart. To see Steve suffering because of him as the last thing before he had died, had been horrifying, so that now, that he had woken up to Steve’s presence, Bucky felt all the more lucky to be alive and whole; well as whole as one could be with one arm missing. He inhaled deeply. It was good to smell Steve, a scent that was so familiar and calming, it smelled like home in this world where nothing seemed right anymore

When Steve felt Bucky tensing up, remembering his dream, he started stroking his hands up and down his back in slow motions, whispering soft, comforting words into his hair, Bucky could almost feel the movement of his lips against the skin on his neck and it sent shivers through him. For the longest time he had not even been aware of those feelings that were all too frequent visitors to him now. He had always marked them up to protectiveness, tried to feel like an older brother, but somewhere deep down he had known that he felt more than that. And yet he had not fully realized until Steve had basically committed treason to come and warn him, to come and fight for him, with him. Bucky had realized then and there, standing in his sparse flat surrounded by several swat teams, that he was in love with Steve Rogers and had been for so long he could not even remember ever not feeling this way, not really.

But Steve had a unique way of breaking Bucky’s heart, as he went on to kiss Sharon right in front of him, only hours after Bucky had had this epiphany, and so he had shoved those feelings down, down, down. He stood with Steve, he fought with Steve, he escaped with him, would give his life for him in any situation, but ultimately, Bucky was grateful for the way out he was offered. The cryo-stasis had never been this comfortable, he was well cared for, of that he had been sure. For one he could wait in there, in the peace of the ice, wait for Shuri to figure out a way to remove these codes from his mind, that turned him into a machine, to be used for killing and killing only. And for another thing, Bucky found a way to escape his feelings. He wanted nothing more than for Steve to be happy, but now it hurt so indescribably much, his heart ached with every second that he dared to think of what he could have, in another time, in another world maybe, or another universe.

Waking up from cryo-stasis had been just as comfortable and so he had continued to live his life in Wakanda among children, playing his small but not entirely useless part in their society. And Steve was there. Steve was there and Steve did not leave, not ever. Apparently his thing with Sharon had not worked out and even though Bucky was disappointed in that as Steve’s best friend, he was thrilled as somebody who loved him as more than that. And he felt guilty about it. But then again, sometimes Bucky would look at Steve and found him to be a new man, the bearded, almost grim-looking person before him could not possibly be the same one as that scrawny kid from Brooklyn, that Bucky had sworn to himself, he would protect; this man before him could protect himself and Bucky as well. But as soon as Steve did anything, moved, spoke, smiled, Bucky saw that same scrawny kid from Brooklyn shining through the changed façade. Steve was still the same, the same compassionate, beautiful soul in a body that continued to astound and overwhelm Bucky with its sheer power and its beauty. In these moments, Bucky was sure of his love, because he had seen many versions of Steve by now, and all of them had the same heart, the same convictions. Bucky loved all of them, because ultimately he loved Steve for his soul.

Now, with Steve being so close, so warm from bed, so comfortable and unexpectedly soft, muttering tender words into Bucky’s hair, his beard sometimes brushing over the skin on his neck, now Bucky was tempted, oh so tempted to do something really stupid like kissing Steve. And his perfect body did not help.

When Bucky had awoken from cryo, Steve had been the first person he saw. It had been the first time Bucky was not in uniform, the first time he had not heard harsh Russian words shouted at him as soon as he awoke, no, his surroundings were peaceful, a sterile white and grey environment. Even though afterwards he realized that Shuri had been directly in front of him, trying to talk to him, his eyes had immediately latched onto Steve’s face, because Steve had been there and Bucky was unbelievably happy about it. The first thing Bucky had noticed was the beard. Never would he have thought that a beard would look good on Steve, but here they were and somehow Steve looked better than ever.

He had looked so worried, the creases in his forehead only slowly fading away when his eyes had finally met Bucky’s, and then he had rushed over to him, closing his arms around Bucky similarly to now.

To think that he could lose it all so easily shook Bucky to the core. The dream was still on his mind as clear as day, he could nearly feel himself disintegrate and it sent spikes of panic through him.

As if Steve sensed it, he loosened his grip around Bucky and pulled back, seeing the terrified expression on his face, gently coaxing him to move, to sit on the bed. Bucky was shivering because his sweat-soaked shirt was getting uncomfortably cold. Steve noticed, of course.

“I’ll get you another shirt. I’ll be right back, Buck, don’t worry.”

Hearing Steve’s voice made him feel better. It added a sense of reality to the situation. Bucky nodded in one abrupt notion, wiping his hand over his face, trying to order his mind. But there were too many emotions clouding his senses, dread that had settled deep within his bones, mixed with the innumerable positive emotions that Steve evoked in him, the sense of loss in sharp contrast to the comfort of Steve’s arms, the shock of his body disintegrating clashing with the feeling of stone floor against his feet, sheets under his thighs, his face under his fingers. It was too much for Bucky, overwhelming his senses, sending tears into his eyes, that he tried to frantically blink away.

Steve returned with a crisp white shirt and a dark grey hoodie which he set down next to Bucky on the bed, before settling down on his other side.

Wordlessly, Bucky reached for the hem of his shirt, pulled it over his head and tossed it on the bed behind himself, he felt sticky and uncomfortable, but there was no way he had the energy to shower just now, so he put on the shirt and the hoodie, feeling more comfortable, wrapped in the special comforting soft warmth that seemed unique to Wakandan clothing.

Steve laid one arm around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him close. Bucky rested his head against Steve’s own shoulder, closing his eyes for a second before he heard Steve speaking, feeling the vibrations of his voice against his own skin.

“Do you wanna talk about it, Buck? Or is it too much?” Bucky’s heart hurt; Steve knew him so well, too well? New tears were forming in his eyes, but Bucky wanted to tell Steve, wanted to confide in him, because he had nobody else, because Steve deserved to know, because Bucky needed to share the horrors he had seen, needed to share them with somebody, even if it was only a dream.

“I had a new arm, Steve, they gave me my new arm. And it felt good, I wanted it, I was ready. But then I had to fight. They were everywhere, Steve, how were they everywhere? Monsters. So big. I saw them nearly rip you apart. Steve, it was so bad, it was _so_ bad!” Bucky let out a sob, it felt childish but at the same time, his memories of the dream were so vivid, so horrifying that there was barely a way for him not to cry.

“What monsters, Bucky?” Steve asked softly. He was drawing circles into Bucky’s shoulder, it helped keep Bucky grounded, helped keep him sane when his mind wanted to escape into the hell that was his nightmare.

“Aliens. Not from here, giant mindless animals, coming for all of us. Vision was there, Steve, they were after him and they went through us all to get to him and then there was this purple giant, and he had so much power, Steve. And you fought him, Steve, you fought him. How could you? How could you put could you put yourself in so much danger?”

Steve breathed in deeply.

“I didn’t Bucky, it wasn’t real. I’m safe, I’m right here, hey. Hey, Bucky, look at me please. I’m right here and I didn’t fight a purple giant.” Steve’s other hand came up to wipe away the tears from Bucky’s cheeks.

“But you would, Stevie. Don’t say you wouldn’t. That’s exactly what you would do and I could so easily lose –” A sob choked off his words, “so easily lose you, Steve.”

Silence. Steve did not deny it.

“And then we were winning. It was gonna be alright, and the purple man was dying. And I was gonna go to you cause I didn’t know if you were ok, Steve, I was so worried but then I – I just turned into dust, Steve, I fucking disappeared, and I felt myself disappear. I can still feel my toes stop existing if I concentrate.” Bucky pulled away from their embrace, looking at Steve with wide eyes. Steve looked shocked.

“Steve, I can feel a phantom vibranium arm and I can feel myself vanish, am I going insane? I don’t wanna go insane, Steve. And I called your name, right? You all thought we were winning, too, you were all _happy_! But then I walked towards you and I called your name and I disappeared and I saw your face, Steve, I saw you suffering and it looked so real. That was the worst thing. It was seeing you feel so bad,” the tears were back now and Bucky barely saw Steve in front of himself now, he only saw the green of trees surrounding them, saw the blue cloud of space somehow opening before them, saw the dust falling down from himself, his gun, then his hands, his legs, his torso vanishing turning to greyish-brown flakes and he saw the pain in dream-Steve’s ice-blue eyes.

“Steve,” it came out more like a whimper than an actual word. “I’m so sorry, it’s so real I’m sorry I died,” He could not feel his fingers suddenly. He looked at his hand incredulously. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I never wanna be the reason for your pain, I love you so much, Stevie, you don’t even kn-“

He stopped suddenly, reality came back into focus and the expression on Steve’s face was still shocked but Bucky was fairly sure that now his shock had another reason, in addition to Bucky going crazy.

Bucky jerked back out of Steve’s reach. This was bad, this was not at all how it was supposed to go, he should have just never started talking.

“Bucky” Steve’s voice was barely more than a whisper, Bucky dared not look at him, jaw clenched and eyes staring only at the white wall. Bucky willed the tears to stay back. Maybe Steve would write off his last words as another part of his insanity. Bucky flinched, when he felt Steve’s calloused fingertips against his jaw, could not resist, following them, his head turning, so he had to look at Steve.

Steve’s expression had shifted from shocked to something else, surprised, more than anything. Hopeful? But for what?

“Do you mean that, Bucky?” So Steve did not think Bucky was that crazy. But now he had to find an excuse if he wanted to keep Steve in his life, he needed to, more than anything.

“I mean as – as friends, Steve. You are my best friend.” His heart was beating fast and Bucky would not be entirely surprised if Steve could tell he was lying just by hearing or feeling his heartbeat.

“I know, Buck, but – there’s more. Or is it just me?” Steve suddenly seemed insecure. What was just him? What was Steve saying? He looked more miserable with every passing second.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky repeated, he was not even sure why, or what he was apologizing for. He was sure his own expression was just as miserable as Steve’s, whose fingers were still resting on Bucky’s jaw. Without him noticing, their faces had come closer and closer, but Bucky could not pull back, not now, not when Steve’s eyes were so close, so beautiful, that Bucky wanted to see nothing else for the rest of his life.

“What for, Bucky?” He could feel Steve’s breath against his lips. But Steve was not stupid, he had most likely figured Bucky out without difficulty, why was he still here, then? Why was he not moving away, his hand shifting, to the back of Bucky’s head, keeping him in place.

Bucky acted before he could think anymore, doubt anymore. He leaned forward and brought his hand up to Steve’s neck, pulling him closer, until his lips were brushing against Steve’s, until he could feel Steve’s beard on his skin.

And then their lips were moving together and it took Bucky a moment to realise that Steve was kissing him back. Steve was threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair, and Bucky tilted his head just a bit to the side, opening his lips to deepen the kiss. It was better than he could have imagined, because Steve was eager. His other hand came up to cup Bucky’s jaw, his tongue slipped between Bucky’s lips and a small moan escaped his throat, as Bucky reciprocated just as eagerly.

When they broke apart, they stared at each other dazedly for a moment.

“So did you mean it, Buck?” Did he even need to ask? Of course he did. If there was one thing that Bucky should know about Steve, it was that he frequently thought way less of himself and what he did, than he should.

“Of course, Stevie. I just didn’t – I just didn’t think you’d feel the same.” Bucky breathed and let his head fall forward against Steve’s shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent. Steve’s grip on his hair loosened and his hand moved lower, to pull Bucky close and hug him to Steve’s chest. It made him feel safe, the last shreds of panic and desperation draining from his mind, as he slumped  against Steve with his whole weight, relying on him to hold him, which he did. Steve always did. Bucky felt Steve’s lips press a tender kiss to his scalp.

“I love you too, Bucky. I thought you knew. I thought you didn’t love me, god, we’re so blind,” Steve murmured into Bucky’s hair.

“We really are.” Relief was making Bucky’s whole body seem lighter, a smile spread on his lips.

He was not dying, he was not dissolving, Steve was happy. Even better; Steve was happy because of him, because Steve loved him and Bucky was sure that, whatever was to come, they would be okay because they had each other. Till the end of the line.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, leave me comments, kudos, anything is appreciated! Send me a prompt on [tumblr](https://lokianawinchester.tumblr.com/)?


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